The Refrigerator Personality Test

“Show me what you store, and I’ll tell you what you are,” wrote Los Angeles Times Food Editor Russ Parsons in a column last year entitled “The Refrigerator Personality Test.” I’ve known Russ for over a decade, and worked with him for at least half that long, but after reading that column learned a little more about this superb human being. Like that Russ is sentimental and hangs onto hot sauce for 20 years. That he is perhaps also fickle in love, which explains the fleeting flirtation with a tube of cast-aside yuzu-koshu pepper paste. I’ve never forgotten the story, and was reminded of it again this morning when I was looking for something as simple as a jar of Dijon mustard (we’re out) and instead found a random of assortment of condiments that included four spicy mustards of varying heat, jars of capers, lemon curd, fig paste, pomegranate syrup, two jars of Nuttzo (god forbid we run out, but seriously, it’s great in a smoothie), almond butter, pistachio and walnut oils, Sriracha, tubes of anchovy and tomato paste and several bottles of apéritifs and rosé in the refrigerator door alone. They are joined by less esoteric tubs of mayonnaise, ketchup, maple syrup, soy sauce, Diet Dr. Pepper and butter.

Now that I write that all out, it sounds like a LOT. I guess it is a lot. But in reality the depth of our fridge is pretty shallow, which I love. Items are less likely to get lost and go to waste. (Our freezer drawers are another story for another post.) And after cataloging the contents above, I think I’m going to try to cook my way through our condiments. And cheese, of course. Any ideas? And while we’re at it, what’s in your fridge????

Since I’m sitting at my desk and not basking in the glow of the open Amana, this won’t be complete, but here it is (from bottom to top):

Bottom crisper:
organic string cheese single serve (6)
one wedge of parmesan the size of a Kleenex box (a gift ferried back in the bride’s luggage from the last Milan runway shows)
one package habanero cheddar
three cans of Diet Coke
one can of Diet Canada Dry Gingerale

In the two drawers above that:
blister pack of organic cherry tomatoes
Ziploc sandwich bag of sliced mushrooms
English hothouse cucumbers (two-pack)
six lemons from the neighbor’s lemon tree
2 limes so old they look like walnuts
1 package “living lettuce”

Next shelf up:
1 bag of three berry granola from Trader Joe’s
2 containers of Greek-style yogurt
3/4 of a quart of gazpacho from Joan’s on Third
Plastic container with approximately six curried chickpeas (also from Joan’s)

KC: First questions answered first: By memorizing the contents I don’t need to open my eyes for the midnight forage (you only lick a fridge thermometer once, I always say), and “Pirate Season Special Stock” is an appellation applied to anything grown, infused, harvested, distilled or fermented whilst Pirate Season is in full swing.
Which brings me to the last one. Pirate Seasons run concurrently with the women’s RTW runway shows in Milan and Paris, and are noted as same. For example, while the Spring/Summer 2010 collections were showing in September of 2010, it was Pirate Season S/S ’10.

Love the photo!
When I wrote mine, I made it sound as though we were monastic; we are not. Like you, I have an incredible number of esoteric condiments on the door (fig paste, Char Sui sauce, Patak’s mild curry paste, black olive puree, Siracha [2 bottles] mustand [5 kinds], dessert wine, jalapeno jelly, tahini), but the fridge, alas, since the kids are gone — and even when you have one kid, you have tons of kids in the house, and they all eat, every 90 minutes — less food on the shelves. I have thrown out more food in the past three months, simply because I am used to buying for many mouths, mouths that are not here and thus, the food rots. The upside is that I have gotten quite fancy about things, as it’s easy to justify that $22/pound fish, and two nice bottles of wine, and perhaps a bit of pate and really, look at those blackberries, when it’s for two.

Several years ago, sitting over brunch at the Sunset Marquis in West Hollywood, a fashion editor friend in town from NY said, “You know what you are? A foodinista.” I think we were discussing Louboutins and guanciale at the time. But whatever it was, the name made sense. And it ... Continue reading →